Because
by EHWIES
Summary: Ten questions from the indecisive nature of Regulus Black.


**Because**

-:-

He'd always liked even numbers. When asked, he'd say simply because they were divisible by two and go on to take two breaths, four bites, six steps. If he'd taken further time to think about it, he would have supposed it had something to do with the calculating Black manner he had grown up with—but then, he rarely took the time to think about these things at all. "They're divisible by two," he'd say shortly, and that would be that.

He himself didn't really know.

-:-

Pureblood supremacy was pummeled into him from day one, something he never stopped to question or doubt. To him, it just _was_, like the sky being blue, even being good, Cissy being his favorite cousin. And she was, more by logic than anything else: Bella was too independent, Andy too different, and Cissy was in between, pretty but dependent, pretty by default, a follower, unsure of exactly who she was—rather like himself, in fact, but not quite. For she simply followed along, while though he couldn't quite put his finger on the _why_ of it, he knew he belonged as a pureblood, knew he fit in with the Noble and Most Ancient.

Or so he thought.

-:-

It was autumn. They were at his house today, playing in the lawn as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, in a rare quiet moment, away from the others. Andy was trying to make peace between Bella and Sirius, no doubt—his brother and eldest cousin had never really gotten along—so it was just the two of them, sprawled across the lawn with leaves stuck in their hair.

"Do you ever wonder," Cissy said slowly, turning to him with misgiving in her eyes, "what it would be like to be a Muggle-born?"

It was the first time he ever heard her call them anything but Mudbloods, and he told her so, avoiding the question, knowing the answer: he hadn't, and he was afraid of what may happen if he did.

-:-

He never was a close friend to Sirius. His brother rebelled, acted too open-minded, too accepting—though ironically never of him. He made an effort to be civil every once in a while, but it was all or nothing when it came to Sirius, and he wouldn't give up his identity for someone who wouldn't take him how he was and always would be. It was all right—he was smarter, he was more mature, he was better—but it didn't change how he _was_, and Sirius _did_.

He grew his hair out like Sirius's once and wondered why he didn't feel the shame he had been expecting.

-:-

He was relieved more than anything when his letter to Hogwarts finally came. He'd seen them all go before him, even Sirius, and he was tired of the waiting, wanted to finally make a name for himself. Cissy'd promised him a seat on the train, said she'd introduce him to a bright boy from Slytherin, and he was rather anticipating the encounter, finding a niche in the Hogwarts society. The boy, called Snape, was bad with a quill and only a half-blood, and he hoped vaguely that this was why Cissy's nose had gone all wrinkled.

He did see a rather attractive redhead waiting for Snape outside the compartment, though, so it wasn't all bad.

-:-

She was named Lily Evans, a Gryffindor Mudblood, and was mortally afraid of blood. Snape was friends with her, though, so he supposed it wouldn't be too suspicious to be caught seen with her. So he puffed out his chest one day after the pair of them parted, walked up to her as bravely as he could, and told her his name was Regulus and that he liked even numbers.

Her hand went to her hip, and she said with narrowed eyes, "You're Sirius Black's brother, aren't you?"

He nodded and drawled his disapproval, having heard she was far from fond of Sirius and his friends. But she told him crossly that Sirius was a good person and stalked off without another word.

As seemed too frequent in life, he never did understand why.

-:-

Severus, it turned out, wasn't that bad. He wasn't very likable, but he was helpful with Potions, at least, and told him more about Evans. "She doesn't usually make friends with Slytherins," he told him in that greasy voice of his, "so you'll have to watch your language around her. Treat her with respect, even though she's a…"

"Mudblood?" he asked plainly, but Severus did not respond. "But aren't _you_ in Slytherin? Besides," he added suspiciously, "why are _you_ friends with someone of _her_ blood?"

"Why do you ask?" Severus shot back, and, when he dared begin to answer, "Why do you like even numbers?"

He didn't reply.

-:-

He'd never much liked her, but he still had felt a twinge of something like sadness when Andy was burned off the family tree. The same twinge came back when he only found out she had a daughter through Cissy.

When he asked why the two still kept up, he noticed her nose was more wrinkled than ever and wondered how he'd failed to notice before.

-:-

Sirius ran away from home when he was about to start fifth year, and as happy as he thought he was, the house still felt empty without him. So he buried himself in his parents' tales and prayed that they were more than what he'd come to believe.

He buried himself in Evans's letters, too, but he didn't talk about that.

-:-

Evans came up to his dorm to see him once, only when he'd promised the others would be out. Had anyone asked, her pretense was of visiting Severus—not, though, that she'd need to use it, because the Slytherins were used to seeing her in there common room every once in a while and hadn't bothered remembering that she and Severus had fallen out. He smiled at her genuinely when she entered, a real smile, the first he'd felt in what seemed like forever.

She was different this year, though, darker, and didn't return it. So he told her he missed the old Evans and that he was worried about her and had been ever since Severus had called her a Mudblood. She shrugged it off and twirled a strand of his hair between her fingers, and he was glad of it, because now he didn't have to admit that to him, she _was_ a Mudblood.

"You look like Sirius," she told him. He didn't know whether it was a good thing, hoped it wasn't a good thing, and asked her quite bluntly if he should get a haircut.

She asked him what he was talking about, but he was too far lost in his thoughts to notice just what the question had been. "Because they're divisible by two," he said absently and didn't notice her utter confusion.

He didn't notice, either, that she had left until she was long gone.

-:-

He died on an odd-numbered day at an odd-numbered age and could no longer remember the days when he called Lily Evans a friend.

He didn't bother asking himself why he'd become a Death Eater, why he'd turned on Voldemort, why he liked even numbers this time.

-:-

**A/N:** There are a couple of very slight references here to another story of mine, "Anecdotes", but they're so tiny that it hardly matters.

Please leave a review now that you've finished! I hope you enjoyed this.


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